


One is the loneliest number

by darkstark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Loneliness, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-19 22:10:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8226350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkstark/pseuds/darkstark
Summary: At a restaurant's bar, waiting for dates that are never going to show up, Stannis and Sansa strike up a conversation.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sarah_Black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_Black/gifts).



> This idea had been in my head for quite some time now, and I finally decided to give it a go. It was originally meant to be a one-shot, but I got carried away writing and decided to break it into smaller chapters.
> 
> Sarah, this one's for you - a thank you for all the wonderful stories you have given us, and for all your support with The New Girl. I hope you like it. :)
> 
> The title is taken from the Harry Nilsson song "One is the loneliest number"

Stannis scowled at his wristwatch. It was a beautiful and expensive piece, though he had mostly chosen it for its features: waterproof, almost unbreakable, could tell the time not only in Westeros, but in Myr and Norvos too. Yet right now he wasn’t pleased at all with what his watch was telling him. It was almost half past eight, which meant that his date was almost half an hour late.

“Sir, would you be ready to move to your table now?” a pompous waiter asked him. The downside with booking a table in a high-end restaurant was that one had to put up with the somewhat self-important staff.

“No, I’m not quite ready yet. I’m expecting someone” he said crisply to the waiter, who raised an eyebrow in disapproval.

“We are quite busy tonight, sir. I’m sorry to inform you that we might have to give your table to other guests if your company delays much longer” the man said.

“Thank you for the warning. But I will wait at the bar for a little longer” Stannis bit out, forcing himself to be moderately civil. He disliked eating out. It required a level of civility that often exceeded his capabilities.

_It’s all Robert’s fault,_ he thought as his fingers rapped on the beautiful mahogany bar. Most things that made Stannis miserable were his older brother’s fault. Yet somehow, Robert always found a way to convince Stannis to do the most ridiculous things. A blind date, really! How pathetic, at his age…

“They’re a pain, aren’t they?” a youthful, satin-like voice said, and his head turned to its direction almost involuntarily. 

A young woman was sitting two seats down from him at the bar, smiling at him. Her beauty was so striking that Stannis wondered how he had managed to ignore her presence until now. She had long, glossy red hair that fell gracefully around an oval face with delicate features, and her blue eyes sparkled with something warm and confident.

“What?” he said confusedly. He was pretty sure she had talked to him, though he couldn’t fathom why, and he certainly hadn’t caught what it was she had said.

“The waiters. They’re awfully impatient” she explained, tilting her head in amusement.

“Oh. Yes” he said, still quite confused by the fact that a young, beautiful woman was talking to him out of her own volition.

“Though it is their job I suppose. Sometimes I think I ought to be going to cheaper places. The staff is far more relaxed there” she continued in a conversational tone.

“Why don’t you?” he asked then, but he regretted it immediately. What business had he asking a strange woman about her choice of restaurants?

But the woman just looked at him quizzically, and her smile returned on her lips.

“I didn’t choose the locale” she explained.

Stannis was in the middle of wondering whether he should apologise to her or not for being so intrusive, when she spoke to him again.

“You look familiar. Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so” Stannis said. He was quite sure he would remember it if he had seen a woman so striking before.

“Are you sure? You really do look familiar to me” the woman insisted. A crease had appeared on her forehead, presumably from all the effort she did to remember Stannis. It was the most beautiful crease he had ever seen on a face.

“I don’t…”

“Hang on; do you happen to know Robert Baratheon? The founder of Baratheon Renewable Power?” she said then, her face brightening with inspiration.

“He is my brother. How do you know that?” 

“You must be Stannis Baratheon then?” she continued, ignoring his own question.

“Yes, but-”

“I’m Sansa Stark; my father is-”

“Ned Stark?” Stannis guessed, completing her sentence.

“Robert is an old friend of dad’s. They don’t see each other much these days, of course, since their businesses are at opposite ends of the country, but…”

“Yes, I know” Stannis said. He could count in one hand the times he had met Ned in his life, but then again, he didn’t see much of Robert these days either, what with him being in the King’s Landing branch and Stannis running the headquarters in the Stormlands.

“It’s very nice to meet you” she said with a warm smile. She had slid off her barstool and had approached him, her delicate hand extended.

“Nice to meet you too” he said a little stiffly, shaking her hand. Her grip was strong and steady, but her skin was cool and soft like silk. When she retrieved her hand, he almost protested the removal.

_Get a grip, man,_ he thought to himself. Here he was, waiting for his wretched date, and his brain was already getting distracted by this other woman.

“I’ve often heard dad praising your work ethics and sound economic plans” Sansa Stark said. She had now moved to the seat next to his, bringing her empty cocktail glass along.

“He does?” Stannis asked in disbelief. Last time he’d checked, Ned idolized Robert and his risky business deals.

“Oh yes” Sansa said, nodding her head vigorously. That made her auburn locks dance around her face in the most lovely of ways.

_Stannis, get it together._

“Are you here for a business dinner?” Sansa asked then. Her head was resting on her hand now, and she was giving him her full attention. Stannis wasn’t used to people looking at him so intently. Usually they avoided his eyes as if he were the Medusa.

“Er. Not quite, miss Stark” he said stiffly. It felt awfully embarrassing to admit to anyone that he was making attempts at a private life, but it was entirely possible that his date would appear any time now, so it would be pointless to hide it.

“A date then? I’m also waiting for a date, though he is being uncharacteristically late. And please, call me Sansa” Sansa said pleasantly.

“Sir, are you sure you don’t want to move to your table? I can’t hold it for much longer”

The stuffy waiter had made an appearance again, looking at Stannis expectantly.

“I’m still waiting for my company” Stannis said coolly, though he felt quite miserable on the inside. What a sight he must make, a middle-aged man sitting alone at the bar waiting for an imaginary date to arrive…

“And you madam, your reservation is under the name…?” the waiter turned to Sansa, oblivious to Stannis’s inner turmoil.

“Harding” Sansa replied.

“You will also have to move to your table soon” the waiter warned her.

“So what brings you here?” Sansa asked Stannis after the waiter had left them. “If I remember correctly, you manage the company’s branch in the Stormlands”

“Business deals” Stannis answered laconically. He was still coming to terms with the fact that the very attractive Sansa Stark was so keen to have a chat with him. Their vague connection through Robert didn’t seem to him reason enough for her to feel obligated to talk to him.

“And you?” he asked, trying to be polite. “You don’t live up north anymore?”

“Oh, I study here at Vale University. Just for a semester though, I’ll be back up north for the next semester” Sansa explained.

Conversation was easy with Sansa. She seemed quite adept at environmental issues and renewable energy sources even though she was doing a literature major, and she could carry the conversation with ease from one subject to the next, never leaving room for awkward pauses. She seemed quite interested in everything he had to say, often resting her head on her hand and fixing her eyes on him, though sometimes they would slip to her phone, most probably checking for messages from her belated date. She talked animatedly and with passion, and he often found himself being drawn to her moving lips, the way they opened and closed, perpetually hiding and revealing a set of pearly white teeth. Her lips, painted a dark red, looked like two perfect rose petals, and despite himself he imagined what it would be like if he put his fingers on them, to see if they really felt as velvety as they looked.

_Stop it, you old pervert. She’s got half your years. She’s waiting for a man her age, and you’re waiting for a woman your age. Get a grip!_

“Sir, either you will have to move to your table now, or I’ll have to give it to someone else” a voice said testily. The infernal waiter had returned.

Stannis was at a loss for words for a moment. His date was nowhere to be seen, and he now had to accept that she would never come. He would either have to give up the table, go up to his room, order room service and eat by himself in front of his laptop, or he would have to be the weird man who ate by himself in a fancy restaurant full of couples and families. Both options were humiliating and depressive on equal parts.

“It’s quite alright, we’ll move to the table now. Oh, and you can give up the Harding table” Sansa said smoothly, already sliding off her barstool. 

_What?_

“What do we have to lose?” Sansa said cheerfully, waiting for him to get up as well.

He suddenly came into motion again, snapping out of his surprise.

“Nothing, I suppose” he said reservedly, following the impatient waiter to their table.

_This evening is taking an unexpected turn,_ he thought.

“I must confess, this is probably the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done” Sansa said once they were seated, peeking behind a menu.

“Is that so?” Stannis said in honest surprise. Sansa had seemed extremely confident when she told the waiter to lead them to their table, yet now her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were sparkling with the excitement of a child who’s done something mildly naughty.

“Are you surprised? I usually put more thought into my decisions. Not that that always guarantees they’re actually good decisions” Sansa said.

Stannis hummed noncommittally.

“Do you ever do impulsive things?” she asked then, setting her menu flat on the table and looking him in the eyes.

“Not really” Stannis said, frowning a little. Sansa’s lips curled into a smile that let him know she wasn’t entirely convinced.

“Well, perhaps being here tonight was the unfortunate result of a somewhat spontaneous decision” he admitted, somehow feeling the impulse to be completely honest with this stranger sitting opposite to him. 

“Ah” Sansa said, enjoying her little triumph. “What would you do if I hadn’t decided to join you for dinner?”

“Most likely I would have gone up to my room” Stannis replied curtly. It sounded a little sad, but he didn’t see any reason to pretend he’d do anything fancier than that.

“What a shame that would be!” Sansa exclaimed. “I came to your rescue then, didn’t I?” she added then, a mischievous smile on her lips.

Stannis opened his mouth – out of embarrassment, in order to protest or affirm, he didn’t know. Luckily the waiter came with their choice of wine and spared him the need of an answer.

“To being stood up” Sansa said, raising her glass of ruby-red wine.

Stannis flinched inwardly. His ego was still quite bruised from the realization that a woman made the very conscious decision not to meet him, but he raised his glass anyway. After all, he couldn’t really complain over the fact that he was now going to have dinner with a gorgeous and witty young woman.

Sansa seemed to be in high spirits during the dinner, moving with grace from one subject to the next without letting too many moments of silence to cram in between. And Stannis found himself eager to speak with her more, and listen to her more as well. As they went through their courses the mood became mellower, the conversation naturally shifting from casual small talk to more personal subjects. Sansa talked of her childhood in the north, her hopes for the future. He listened with interest, trying to understand the woman who gradually turned out to be a lot more complicated than her beauty and good manners initially let on. But more often than not, his eyes wandered to the two dark, moving petals of her mouth, and now he imagined putting his finger there, not just to feel the velvety softness, but to drag it across her lips and see how easily the colour would smear on her pristine skin.

_You would never._

“I wish I was brave enough to sit at the table by myself and have dinner on my own, you know?” Sansa said while they were waiting for desert (hers; he wasn’t partial to sweets).

He raised an eyebrow, confused. Had Sansa preferred to sit by herself? In that case, why did she choose to have dinner with him? Simply in order to not be alone? Or maybe she felt sorry for him and thought to keep him company? If so, that would be the second most depressing thing that had happened to him tonight.

“Oh no” she said quickly when she saw the look on his face. “I’m actually having a great time. Better than if Harry had actually showed up. But there are other times, when I am alone, and I’d like to do something, but I don’t because I feel embarrassed to do it by myself. Like go to the cinema, or sit at a café and read, or go to an art exhibition… You see, I’m still learning to be alone. I’ve always been around my family, and most of my school friends are with me at university. This semester here is a whole new experience. And I’m getting better I think… But more often than not I can’t help but wonder what people around me think of me. I can’t help but think that they see something wrong with me when I’m alone. They must wonder where my friends are, or where my boyfriend is”

She spoke quietly, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly. Her eyes were on the table focused on her long fingers that moved her wine-glass about.

“Do you think like that when you see other people sitting somewhere alone?” Stannis asked.

“Well… no, not really” Sansa said, frowning.

“Then why should you think that others think like that about you?” he said.

She looked up at him, her eyes wide as she considered this idea. Even in the dim light of the restaurant he could see the brilliance of the blue.

“I suppose we all have our insecurities” she replied with a wan smile. “Don’t you ever feel like that? Like this world was made for pairs and groups, and being on your own is irregular?”

“I…” he hesitated for a moment. This suddenly felt very personal, and he was never comfortable with letting people in his private thoughts. Yet this strange encounter with Sansa was much like that of two strangers on a train. You’d speak with the stranger you’re sharing your compartment with about the most intimate details of your life, your most secret thoughts. You’d tell them things you wouldn’t tell your partner or your close friends, the people who knew you best, precisely because they’re a stranger whom you’ve never seen before and are never going to see again in your life. There was something cathartic about it, and perhaps that was also the reason Sansa had opened her heart to him.

“I’m used to being alone. And I must say, alone doesn’t necessary mean lonely. Being by yourself is a good thing sometimes. It’s peaceful. And… sometimes it’s more honest, too. People seem so desperate nowadays, to be with other people. But it’s more about being surrounded by other people, to be among them and appear to be with them than actually _be_ with them, to truly connect with them. I’d rather be alone, and honest, than surrounded by false friends”

“And is this honest?” Sansa asked, waving her arm lightly to point at the space between them. She didn’t seem upset or puzzled by his words. On the contrary, she seemed… moved by what he had said – like it meant a lot to her that he had shared his thoughts with her.

“Yes, I think this is honest” Stannis said quietly.

He avoided sharing such private thoughts, and the truth was that there weren’t that many people who were interested in what he had to say when it didn’t concern wind turbines and financial reports. But Sansa had opened her heart to him, willingly revealing her vulnerable side, and he felt that he owed her that much at least.

Sansa’s dessert arrived then, and she wasted no time to try it. A little moan escaped her lips after she had the first spoonful of mousse – a low sound that made the hairs on Stannis’s neck stand up.

“You have to try this, it’s delicious!” Sansa said enthusiastically after her third spoonful.

“Thank you, but I don’t like sweet things” Stannis declined politely.

“What a shame” Sansa said, a strange twinkle in her eyes that made him shift uncomfortably on his seat. He wondered if she knew just how suggestive she sounded sometimes.

_It’s just your dirty mind._

“It’s really not that sweet though. It’s quite bitter. But the texture is so rich… it’s delicious” Sansa went on, oblivious to his thoughts. “No really, try!” she said then, and extended a spoon full of mousse to his direction.

Stannis was so taken aback by this move, that he opened his mouth, more out of surprise than desire to actually try the dessert, giving Sansa the opportunity to gently push the spoon in his mouth. The rich, velvety taste coated his mouth. He closed his eyes for just one second, enjoying the unexpectedly good balance between bitter and sweet, and when he opened them again, they met with Sansa’s bright, expectant eyes.

He felt something stirring inside him, a need that he had both consciously and subconsciously tried to repress throughout the evening. He looked at her lips again, still perfectly red despite the food and the wine, and he wondered if she would taste of chocolate if he kissed her.


	2. two

“This isn’t the night I thought I was going to have. But I’m glad it turned out the way it did” Sansa said.

The dinner was over, the bill settled. They were standing at the coatroom, where Sansa was putting on her wrap coat. It was made of top quality grey wool, but Stannis was sad to see her dark green dress disappear, even though he had tried to keep his eyes off of her figure for the entire evening.

“It was most unusual, but very enjoyable” Stannis said reservedly.

“Was it?” Sansa said. She had moved closer to him, looking at him curiously. He could smell her perfume from this distance, a light, sweet scent.

“Yes” he said. He couldn’t tell her that this was the most fun he had had in a very long time, or that this was the most intimate he had been with a woman for gods knew how long, or that he hadn’t felt such a strong attraction to anyone since his teen years, when almost anything in a skirt could make his hormonal body go wild.

“Well _I_ had a great time. So much that I’m sad we have to call it a night” Sansa said, looking at him steadily. She had somehow managed to get even closer to him. He could now smell the wine and chocolate on her breath, and it took all his power to refrain from kissing her right then and there.

“Yes, quite sad” he murmured. Their physical proximity and her scent confused his mind more than the alcohol had. Did Sansa mean something different than what she had said? No, it wasn’t possible. But then why did she look disappointed all of a sudden?

“Er. I’m actually staying here. Shall we get you a taxi?” he said awkwardly. Her face fell even more when he said that.

“It’s alright, I’ll manage. Thank you for an unexpectedly pleasant evening, Stannis” Sansa said, a sweet, but faint smile on her face.

They shook hands, and he watched her walk away in the deserted lobby. She would go to her dormitory, and he would go to his empty room. Alone. They would both be alone. And what would they have gained? What’s the point of denying or avoiding someone’s company if you enjoy it?

_It’s now or never, fool._

“Sansa?” he said. Despite his hesitation, his voice was clear, carrying easily across the lobby. She turned in an instant, looking hopeful.

“It’s not that late. Would you perhaps want another drink? A night cap?” he asked.

Neither of them was drunk, though he felt warm and fuzzy from the wine, and having one more drink wouldn’t hurt them. He just wanted her company for a little longer. Was that so terrible?

“I would love to” Sansa said warmly, crossing the lobby to get close to him again. “But I think the bar is about to close” she added, and this time he couldn’t ignore her tone.

“There’s a minibar in my room if you-”

“Perfect”

In the elevator they stood next to each other, their shoulders touching. He was a tall man, but Sansa was a tall girl too. They stood in silence, like two bashful children. It was a fancy elevator, the kind that had glass all around, and for a while he managed to distract himself by gazing at the night lights of the city stretching ahead under them.

Then Sansa spoke, breaking the non-silence of the elevator music.

“It’s a long way to your floor” she observed.

It was the most generic thing she could have said and it was said in the most casual manner, but it was like her voice had broken a spell.

Stannis turned to her and opened his mouth to tell her something in reply to her pointless statement – he didn’t know what. But as he leaned in to speak, he simply couldn’t find a good reason to stop the trajectory of his head. His lips landed on hers gently, a new mission on an undiscovered planet. 

She moaned softly, the rose petals moving, merging with his lips. They were even softer than what he had dared to imagine. And then, with another moan the flower bloomed, the petals parting, revealing the nectar inside. His tongue met hers, tasting the chocolate and the wine and a sweetness that had to be all hers.

He felt her arms moving upwards, her fingers running softly through his hair before trailing downwards, her hands finally cupping his face to keep him steady and deepen the kiss, and it was only then that he realized he hadn’t quite dared to touch her yet.

In his room, the minibar forgotten, they were both more daring, more decisive, but they took no hurry as they continued kissing, their hands slowly tracing over bodies still hidden under clothes. There was still a languidness about the whole thing, a ritualistic slowness. 

If he were honest, he’d desired her since the moment she first spoke to him, and despite his half-hearted restraint, a low, pleasant heat had been growing at the pit of his stomach, spreading in his body throughout the dinner. Now the heat had turned into a sweet ache, but he felt that this was a precious instance, something unique that had to be savoured.

Sansa let him unwrap the coat she still had on, let his hands follow the lines of her curves before unzipping her dress. It pooled at her feet, revealing a slender body in expensive, but non-matching underwear. It was such an insignificant detail, but he found it endearing.

“My turn” Sansa said in a low, breathy voice. Despite the kisses they had shared so far, her lips were still immaculate. 

“Fair is fair” he agreed hoarsely. Her half-naked form had almost rendered him speechless.

She stepped out of the pool of green fabric, closer to Stannis. Her lips left an invisible trail of kisses on his neck as her deft fingers unbuttoned his shirt, swiftly making their way down to his belt. 

He couldn’t help the low growl that rose up from his throat when Sansa started unbuckling his belt. The mere thought that her hands where so close to his loins made him even harder than he already was, bringing a sense of emergency to the so far pleasantly slow buildup of desire. Sansa smiled at his reaction, her smile becoming even wider when his pants were down and he was left in his underwear, his erection completely exposed.

It had been a while since a woman had looked at his half-naked and aroused body, and to his surprise, he felt a slight sense of embarrassment. He drew Sansa in for a kiss, partly as a distraction and partly because he just enjoyed kissing her so much. Her slender form melded with his, and he thought there was nothing more pleasant than his mouth on hers, his hand at the small of her back, and his cock nested between her soft thighs.

She didn’t let him enjoy this for too long though, lowering her body in a liquid motion, almost like a waterfall. She was on her knees, looking up at him mischievously as she lowered his boxer briefs, setting his erection free. He closed his eyes, hardly able to believe this was actually happening to him. He felt her breath caressing his sensitive skin, and then he let out a sigh as she gently cupped his sack with one hand and gave the tip of his cock the first tentative lick. A few more followed and soon her hot, wet mouth enveloped him, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. It had been a very long time since he’d been with a woman in any way, and though he’d masturbate in the shower every now and then to take the edge off, it couldn’t compare to the sensations Sansa’s gentle tongue and soft lips caused.

He opened his eyes. The room was dim, illuminated only by the asthenic light of a nightstand lamp and though his vision had started swimming from the immense pleasure he felt, he looked down to her, the gorgeous woman on her knees, her red hair fanned on her bare shoulders and her head bobbing up and down as she worked him up. He focused on her rhythm, the light squeeze and tug on his sack, the way the fingers of her other hand would dig a little deeper in his hips as her mouth advanced again right after it had retrieved, and then he saw it. He couldn’t see her lips, but he could now see the once perfect red smeared on him, a ring of lust and desire encircling him, widened with each advancement of the soft lips, and the sight was enough to send him over the edge.

He came with a guttural grunt, lights exploding behind his eyelids, and a wave of heat and relief washing over his body. The pleasure of the release was so intense that he hardly registered Sansa licking him off. He remained silent and immobile for a while, waiting for his mind to clear a little from the fogginess of contentment.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Sansa still sitting on the floor, her fingers wiping the now smeared lipstick into an acceptable shape. He held his arms out for her, helping her to get on her feet again, and when their heights were equal once again, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her full on her mouth – not a lustful kiss, but a sweet and gentle one – as much as he could do sweet and gentle – a kind of thank you for the pleasure she had given him. He unclasped her bra as he did so, his fingers trailing the marks it had left on her smooth skin, from her back to the soft mounds of her breasts, with the two little pink rosebuds on their tops. Sansa moaned into the kiss when his fingers brushed the little rosebuds.

They found their way to the bed, their entwined bodies rolling on the duvet until Stannis pressed a hand against Sansa’s shoulder, making her lie flat on the bed. She said nothing as he started trailing her skin with kisses, much like he had said nothing to her when she had done the same to him. They had talked enough during their time at the restaurant, and words with real meaning had passed between them. Now it was time for silence, though Stannis was going to excuse Sansa’s little sighs when he started tugging her panties to take them off. Once off, he gazed at the sight in front of him – another rose, beautiful and budding, and wet as if with morning dew. He inhaled the sweet scent of her arousal and gave her a kiss there, and she trembled under his lips.

She tasted nothing like roses. She had a non-descript taste, slightly salty perhaps, but she had a sweetness that, though he knew was mostly in his head and not in her folds, he enjoyed all the same. And so he lapped at her, exploring the warm, silky flesh, enjoying how it quivered at the touch of his tongue, how it swelled and became even wetter thanks to his ministrations. Sansa sighed and mewled, and every sound that came out of her mouth was music to his ears, making him concentrate more on his enjoyable task. Her sighs became deeper and needier as he concentrated more on her little nub, and she soon started writhing in his arms, whining like a kitten. He wanted to moan too, feeling himself getting hard again. At his age, getting a second erection so soon after being so thoroughly spent was something to be proud of, yet he wasn’t that surprised. The combination of Sansa’s moans and the scent and taste of her arousal were impossible to resist.

He stopped once he felt the first hint of a spasm pulsing against his lips. Sansa whined again, this time in protest. He made his way up to her again, and he almost smiled at the way she pouted at him.

“I want…” he said, trying to explain. His mind was getting foggy with desire again, his skin crawling with need. He looked at Sansa, her swollen lips, her glazed eyes. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“I want…” she echoed, her voice hoarse and low like his. She never finished the sentence. She only drew him closer for a kiss, tasting herself on him.

He positioned himself quickly, forgetting everything about ritualistic slowness and he entered her with one swift thrust and a moan that came to join her own gasp. She was so wonderfully hot, so tight and wet. He moved back, almost extracting himself completely, before taking another plunge, making Sansa gasp again. He did it again, chasing that first sensation, that first revelation. Soon he found a steady rhythm. Sansa’s nails were raking his back, her heels digging at the back of his knees to keep him deep inside her. He wanted to stay inside her forever, he wanted to feel like this forever, reveling in her heat, worshipping the curves of her soft and slender body, joining the music coming out of her mouth with each moan.

It didn’t take long for either of them to come, though. Sansa called his name as she clenched and convulsed around him, and he followed her soon after, a second wave of pleasure washing over him. Though this time it was not as intense, he felt it deeper inside of him, as if it had come to stay. It nestled in his bones now along with the sweetness of exertion.

He rolled next to Sansa, trying to catch his breath. His peripheral vision caught Sansa’s chest rising and falling as well. He closed his eyes, his lids already heavy with sleep. Something brushed against the back of his hand, and then Sansa’s fingers were getting tangled with his. He squeezed her hand and she hummed contentedly. 

_This was something,_ he thought sluggishly.

Sansa rolled in his arms and he held her close to him, enjoying the sensation of her skin on his skin and the weight of her body in his arms, even the way her hair tickled his nose.

_Something meaningful._

Sleep came soon.

He woke up in the small hours of the morning. The room was quiet, drenched in a pale, feeble light. He’d never gotten around closing the curtains. He and Sansa had at least enough sense to get under the bed covers at some point during the night. She was still in his arms, soft and warm, so peaceful in her sleep that he had to strain his ears to hear her breathe. 

_Let me have this,_ he thought sleepily, and he wasn’t sure to whom he was making the appeal. Before he knew it though, before he could cherish the moment, sleep had claimed him again.

He woke up before his alarm clock was set to ring, but the sun was already up, washing the room in bright light. Sansa was not by his side. She was going around the room, looking for her things.

“Oh, good morning” she said with a soft smile when she saw he was awake. She was barefoot, but she already had her dress on.

“Good morning” Stannis said, his mind still a little foggy from sleep.

“Can you zip me up?” Sansa asked and sat next to him on the bed. He sat up and did as she asked, even though in his mind unzipping her was a lot more fun than zipping her up.

“I have a class in a couple of hours. I need to go get a shower and change my clothes” Sansa explained, putting on her heels. “When are you leaving? We could meet again… if you want”

She turned to him as she said that, her eyes full of secret hope. She had no makeup on today. Her paleness was all hers, and so were the long eyelashes and the faint pink of her lips. He had found her stunning last night, with her enticing red lips, but he now felt that there was something profoundly beautiful in this unadorned Sansa.

“I’d… like that. But I have a flight to catch in a few hours” he said with considerable effort.

“Oh”

Her face fell again, like it had done the night before when he had offered to get her a taxi. But now there was nothing to fix that. He was going back to the Stormlands. He had work to do, a life to get on with.

“It wouldn’t make any difference anyway” Sansa murmured with a wan smile.

She was right, sadly. If it wasn’t today, he’d leave tomorrow, or the day after. A few more hours wouldn’t change anything. He lived in the Stormlands. She was here at the Vale, and then she would go back up north again. It was pointless, whatever it was that was lurking in the shadows of his mind.

“Well then” Sansa said, getting up. She didn’t say anything else for a few moments, looking around for her coat. Stannis took this opportunity to get out of bed and put some clothes on. He felt oddly vulnerable being stark naked in bed while Sansa was walking around fully clothed.

“Last night…” she started saying again, putting on her coat.

“Last night was wonderful” Stannis said honestly.

Praises and positive remarks were not very common in his vocabulary. But there was no other way to describe the night they had shared.

“Yes. I’m glad we got stood up” Sansa said, laughing a little.

Stannis nodded. It was almost impossible to believe that last night he existed in a universe in which he was supposed to be interested in another woman.

“Thank you” Sansa said then, and kissed him lightly on the lips, the last brush of the rose petals he had fixated on. He kissed her back, already missing what he only had for one night.

“Goodbye, Stannis” she said with a gentle smile.

“Goodbye” he echoed as the door closed behind her.

He went to the window, looking but not seeing the glistening skyscrapers outside. It was a sunny day, but one ought not to be fooled by the brightness. Bitter winds were always howling in the Vale this time of the year.

Last night, at the end of the dinner, he had thought that when Sansa had first talked to him it was like she had handed him the end of a thread, woven with stories, dreams and thoughts that he could discover if he followed it. At the end of the dinner he had thought it was a shame he hadn’t gotten the chance or the time to follow more of the thread, discover more stories, more dreams, more of Sansa. What he hadn’t thought about however was the moment he would reach the other end of the thread, the end of the story.

And yet…

He looked at the unmade bed, testament to the night of passion he’d shared with Sansa.

For a night, he’d been the luckiest man in the world. And for a night, he hadn’t been alone – quite the opposite. He got to see a bare, beautiful body, and a bare, beautiful soul. He’d been one before, a lonely unit. But for a night, he’d got to become one with someone else.

He smiled to himself a little, still gazing at the glistening city underneath. He could still smell her in the room.

In a way, this was more than what most people got in a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's assume that Sansa is on birth control, and that there was a brief discussion about safe sex off-screen. Stay safe, kids!


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally planned to end the story when Stannis and Sansa part ways, but in the end I couldn't resist to give some closure to the story. This chapter is -in my mind- more of an epilogue than anything else.  
> Thank you all for reading and commenting, you are amazing!

A year later

Stannis checked his watch, wondering what would be the earliest hour that it wouldn’t be considered impolite if he retired to his room. The truth was that he wasn’t a big fan of weddings. They were loud, preposterous affairs, and they required a ridiculous amount of patience and will to socialize, neither of which things he possessed in abundance. But it was his brother’s wedding, so he had to make an exception. For once, it was his younger brother and not his older brother whom he could blame for his unhappiness.

“Why do I always find you on your own?”

He froze. He knew this voice, even in the din of music and chatter, even though it had been over a year since he’d heard it.

“Sansa” he said turning around, trying to retain his composure.

Sure enough she stood there, in a long mulberry-coloured dress that made her red hair look even fierier than he remembered it. But it was Sansa – just as breathtaking as he remembered her.

“Hello, Stannis” she said smiling widely, like she was genuinely pleased to see him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in surprise, and then he scolded himself. Why did he always have to ask her something rude when he met her?

“I’m good friends with Loras’s sister, Margaery” Sansa explained, that quizzical expression he remembered present on her face again.

“That’s… that’s nice” he said. He couldn’t think of anything else to say for a few moments – he was completely taken aback by Sansa’s presence at the wedding. No one had told him she’d be there. And why would they? No one knew they’d ever met.

“You’re with the other groom, I presume” Sansa said, winking at him.

“Er, yes” he said, still too distracted to appreciate the joke. “I don’t remember seeing you at the sept”

“I only came to the reception. Previous engagements”

Her last word sparked something in his distracted mind, nudging him back to normal function.

“Are you here with someone?” he asked. It came out a lot less casual than he intended it to – it rather felt like he was interrogating Sansa.

“No”

A single word, uttered with a smile. 

_It means nothing, silly man,_ he told himself, but he couldn’t help the way his heart started beating a little faster.

“And you?” she asked then, her smile still present, her eyes kind.

“I’m on my own” he replied.

“Ah. We’ve both learned our lesson I see” Sansa said, and Stannis felt his heart leaping at the allusion of the circumstances under which they had first met.

Around them people were moving from table to table, dancing, laughing, talking, paying them no attention whatsoever. They were just standing on the side, not really in anyone’s way, but Stannis realized they couldn’t stay like this for long. Any minute now Sansa would say how nice it was to see him again or some other polite, trite thing, and would return to her table with her friends.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asked a little desperately. He wanted a reason to stay close to Sansa for a little longer. He’d managed just fine without her for an entire year -or so he’d told himself- but now he just _had_ to be near her, even for a few more minutes.

He saw her eyes glimmer at the mention of drinks, and he remembered what had happened the last time he’d offered her a drink. He saw the recollection in her blue eyes, but her lips remained sealed, finally choosing not to mention their one night together.

“It’s an open bar” she reminded him eventually.

“Right” he said hollowly. He wanted to kick himself for being so stupid.

“But yes, I’d love to have a drink, thank you” Sansa said then brightly.

He’d been afraid that perhaps Robert would be stationed at the bar and Stannis would have to endure his indiscreet questions and crass jokes, but when they got there his older brother was nowhere to be seen. Stannis ordered a lemon drop cocktail for Sansa and a club soda for himself. Sansa smiled a little but made no comment on his choice of drink as she perched herself on the barstool next to Stannis.

It was strange sitting at a bar next to Sansa again. At moments it was like he was transported back at the hotel restaurant in the Vale, only now he and Sansa were not waiting for anyone, and there were no annoying waiters reminding them that the clock was ticking.

“So how have you been?” Sansa asked, her head already resting on her hand, her eyes on him. He knew this pose so well, though he only had one night to imprint it on his mind. He almost smiled at her question too. It was like meeting up with an old, good friend.

“Not bad I suppose. Work is going very well. And you?”

“I can’t complain. I’m close to finishing my studies now, and I’m excited to start something new” Sansa replied and then turned to thank the bartender who had brought their drinks.

“To the newlyweds” Sansa said, raising her cocktail glass.

Their glasses clinked, but Stannis paid no attention, completely distracted by the effortless grace and beauty of the woman next to him. If he just reached out his hand, he could touch her. He remembered wondering what that was like. Right now, he could tell that knowing what Sansa’s skin felt like, made an even stronger shiver roll down his spine than imagining what it would be like – because everything about Sansa was beyond one’s wildest imagination.

They stayed at the bar, perched on their stools and watching the wedding guests laughing and dancing. To Stannis it felt a little like they were watching them behind a glass panel, like they existed in two separate realities. They talked about this and that, his work, her studies, what she planned to do afterwards, how she and Margaery had become friends, how Renly and Loras had managed to book the most expensive hotel in all of the Reach to hold their wedding reception. The conversation was casual, relaxed. Yet under the surface of amicability, Stannis could feel the restraint, the uncertainty, both on his part and Sansa’s. He wished he could go back to the genuine unreservedness of their first meeting, the way they had opened their hearts over a restaurant table; it had been so much easier to do that with Sansa than it had ever been with anyone else. It had been a beautiful thing. Making small talk now was almost like sacrilege.

“We can do better than this, can’t we?” Sansa said suddenly, as if she were reading his thoughts.

He looked in her beautiful blue eyes, a true window to her soul. How had he managed to meet a woman who was so different from him, and yet thought so much like him sometimes? And why on earth had he let her go?

“I rather think so” he said earnestly.

“Do you think they’re meant to be? One of those honest relationships you were talking about?” Sansa asked him, jerking her head towards the direction of Loras and Renly, who seemed to be whispering sweet nothings to each other’s ears as they danced to a slow song.  
“Yes” Stannis said without much thought. He didn’t get to see Renly and Loras very often, since he was in the Stormlands and they were in the Reach, but whenever he saw them together, it was quite evident to him that they had found their other half – so much that Stannis felt a little uncomfortable in their presence, and almost preferred to be a witness to his older brother’s awkward, loveless marriage.

“It’s a rare thing, to find someone so right for you” Sansa mused. There was gentleness in her gaze, but also a hint of sadness, Stannis thought.

“Once in a life time” he agreed, wondering what was crossing her mind.

“Has it ever happened to you?” she asked then, suddenly turning to look at him with her piercing blue eyes. His heart almost stopped.

“Once… perhaps” he admitted, his mouth suddenly dry, his heart beating faster once again.

Sansa looked at him, and he had the odd feeling that she was getting lost in his eyes. Then she lowered her gaze, looking at her half-empty glass instead.

“It’s funny how people think those instances are not that uncommon – that they’re bound to happen again” she said thoughtfully. 

“Young people perhaps. At my age you’ve come to know that those instances aren’t common at all” Stannis said.

“Stannis…” she said slowly, her voice a little hoarse, her eyes wide as they locked with his once again.

All other sounds faded, all people vanished from the room. Was this it? The second chance he wasn’t quite sure he deserved? He had dreamed of moments like this more times than he cared to admit.

“Yes?” he managed, hanging from her enticing rosy lips. She was leaning in, as if ready to tell him something, and he had leant in to make sure he would hear her over the din. They were so close. A few more inches and he could kiss her.

She took a deep breath then, and she let it out again in a tremulous exhale. He smelled the alcohol and hint of lemon in her breath. And then she laughed – a short, light laugh, somewhere between bitterness and true mirth.

“We were fools, weren’t we?” she said, still laughing her little laugh.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t dare assume anything.

“I’m sorry I said that. But I had promised myself I would, if I ever got to see you again” Sansa said.

Did she mean…?

“We shouldn’t have been so damn pragmatic. We should have at least exchanged numbers or e-mail addresses” she went on.

He felt his body buzzing, his blood rushing through his veins at an alarming speed.

“I suppose we thought it couldn’t work out. We hardly knew each other, and we were at opposite ends of the country” Stannis said, presenting the feeble excuses he had presented to himself for quite some time before finally admitting to himself that he shouldn’t have just let Sansa go.

“Do you really think so, though? That we didn’t know each other?” Sansa asked, looking at him curiously.

Stannis thought about the odd yet pleasant feeling of companionship Sansa had evoked in him, the unexpected sense of familiarity that had developed in just one night. He had felt that somehow he knew Sansa better than he knew people he’d spent years with. And throughout this last year, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he got to know Sansa even more, even though they’d never seen each other again, and never exchanged another word. Just by looking back at their discussions, remembering the things she’d said, how she’d said those things and how her hands were moving her empty wine glass on the restaurant table, it was like he was rediscovering Sansa, uncovering precious bits of new information every time.

“I think… we’ve come to know each other well” he ventured. And he saw it in the slight curve of Sansa’s mouth, that she understood what he meant, and that she agreed.

“I was mad at you for quite some time, you know” Sansa admitted, her smile growing a little wider.

“I can’t blame you. I was quite mad at myself” Stannis said, a little surprised at how easily his thoughts just slipped out of his mouth. It was Sansa – she was the only one who had this effect on him.

“I don’t mean that” Sansa said, laughing lightly. “Before, I really thought for the most part that one can be lonely only when they are alone. And then we met… and this last year I have been discovering, time and time again, that two can also be a very lonely number, sometimes lonelier than one”

She had lowered her eyes again and she took a nervous sip from her drink after she stopped talking, simply to have something to do while Stannis stood aghast, for a few moments completely stupefied by her words. She was doing it again – she was laying her heart bare for him, and now it was a million times harder, a million times scarier, and for that reason a million times braver too.

There were so many things he wanted to tell her – so many confessions that only she deserved to hear and so many thoughts that had crossed his mind only because he had the luck to meet her; he could tell her he had been a lovesick fool pretty much from the moment she had stepped out of his hotel room in the Vale; he could tell her that inviting her up to his room was the best and smartest thing he’d ever done; he could tell her that when he travelled somewhere, or when the seasons changed, she was the only one he wanted to describe those things to, the only one whose thoughts he wanted to take a swim in.

Their heads were still so close, because they were still leaning in, still trying to hear each other over the din of music and chatter, that instead of telling her anything he simply found it easier to lean in a little more, almost as if in a dream, until his lips met with Sansa’s.

She was as soft as he remembered – softer still, because reality is always better than memories. Their lips fit seamlessly, as if they were always meant to go together, and then her lips parted, and he felt his entire body convulse when he tasted the sweetness under the sugary lemon and alcohol, the sweetness that was so quintessentially Sansa. He felt her hands feebly pawing at him. His own hand was now gently cupping her face, a silly insecure way to hold her there, hold her still, so that he could kiss her more, drink her in, revel in the taste of home and happiness.

At last, they broke the kiss, their foreheads and noses touching. For a few moments Stannis had been deaf and blind, relying only on touch, smell and taste, but gradually the sounds of the reception room started breaking through, reminding him that he was in a crowded room, but for once in his life, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Oh look” Sansa said, after their backs were straightened, and there was once again more space between them. “My glass is empty”

Stannis glanced at her cocktail glass absentmindedly. A few yellow drops were gathered at its bottom. He looked at Sansa, her sparkling eyes, her parted lips, the glow she suddenly seemed to emit, like a bright new day.

“Well” he said slowly, deliberately. “There _is_ a minibar in my room…”

He saw Sansa’s lips part into a wide, radiant grin before even finishing his sentence.

“Perfect” she said, and now he couldn’t help it – he smiled too.


End file.
